A challenging message

I am coming to the end of my time here, as I leave and move on elsewhere on the 4th of May. Due to how many bank holidays there are here, I had a couple of my last sports sessions this week, in Hillside on Monday and Iraq on Tuesday. Sport has been the highlight of my days here and the idea of leaving it behind is pretty heart breaking. More and more I have seen how amazing a way it is to break down cultural, linguistic and emotional barriers between us (as volunteers) and the children in the community here. Sport is universal, in that you can speak a completely different language to someone and feel like your lives are worlds apart, but still build up a relationship and have fun with them, simply by playing a game.

Playing sport has also been vital in teaching the children basic life skills. I felt bowled over at how much love the children here are willing to give if you show them that attention and kindness. Their want for human contact and interaction is both touching and poignant: you can give a child a pat on the pack or a hug and they will be hanging off your arm for the rest of the session. Giving them that time, teaching them those sports skills and just having fun together means more to them than I ever could have imagined when I started here. In those simple ways we have built a trust and a real friendship with the children, which has thus allowed us to capture their attention, gain their respect and able to teach them vital lessons.

...This week we had to tackle the complex theme of purity, protecting your body and awareness of HIV/Aids. Working with the girls especially, in some of the communities, you become aware that maybe certain of them have suffered some abuse - they are often more withdrawn and, as opposed to others who throw their arms around you, human contact is not as comfortable for them. On Monday, along with one of the Dutch sports students, we took the girls aside  at the end of the session and tried to broach this subject, very aware of its sensitivity. At the sports meeting last week, we'd discussed the idea of asking them about things in their lives that hold value to them and that they look after. One of the mentors suggested school uniform - surprising to us - but children here take immense pride in their uniform, as it is a means of gaining an education (it costs money that many of them do not have, and yet they cannot attend school without it).We used this to discuss how, just as we protect and guard things that are important to us, it is just as important to guard and protect our bodies from harm. 

We also utilised the idea of a traffic light system - in that it is ok for people to touch your arms, head, lower legs (green); it is ok for people to touch your upper body, hugging for instance, BUT only if you trust that person (orange); and finally that it is not ok for people to touch your lower body without consent or if it makes them uncomfortable. Understandably, they were were all a little shy in response to the teaching, but they were also attentive, and serious about the topic. I could tell they understood and were taking in everything we were saying and when we asked questions they responded in the right way. The sessions since them have been the same, with a reluctance to talk about it with us, understandably, but a strong understanding and recognition of the importance of what we were telling them.

Teaching this topic has made me reevaluate how lucky I am to be in my situation - I have never felt, in my community, that my safety is under threat and I feel completely secure in the things that I want and able to say no to the things that make me uncomfortable. I have never really considered it being otherwise and the thought makes me both upset, for the children I have come to know so well, but also angry at what they have to struggle against. It is not just losing the relationship I have built with them that is going to be hard when leaving, but also the sense that I am turning away from their struggles and returning to my world of relative safety - a safety that I never again want to take for granted. 

At the day hospital

Today we got ourselves up nice and early at 7.30 to head down to the day hospital and assist at the TB clinic. This early start is nothing compared to the many who head down to the hospital at the crack of dawn to start waiting. Whether they're seeing the HIV/AIDS practitioners, collecting prescriptions or having their TB medication administered, all involve a certain amount of stamina. Talking to some of the ladies waiting outside the HIV clinic, many with babies, they had arrived as early as us and were expecting to still be there at 3 or 4 o'clock before they were seen by anyone.

Grabouw carries both an extremely high TB and HIV contraction rate. Having HIV further increases your chances of getting TB, especially the multi-drug resistant strains. The TB patients have to collect their medication every day from the hospital, partly because some of them have injections but also to ensure that they are taking them.

Day hospital

empty pots!

We were there working alongside the CPF / Community Police force -  a combination of the police force and community representatives, working together to reduce crime in the local area. We were there both to raise awareness of what they do and provide food for all the patients with TB coming to take their medication.






Contracting TB is only the first hurdle in a long struggle - medication has to be taken everyday, otherwise the TB can mutate into a more dangerous strain. If taken without food (which as you can imagine, given economic circumstances, it often is) the medication makes patients sick. This often stops them from taking it again, which leads to further problems. The idea of the CPF being there is to provide free food for the patients to eat alongside their medication - both preventing the side effects that deter them from continuing treatment and making sure the medication has the proper effect.

While there an old, fairly frail looking man came to take his medication and at the same time was given an HIV test. The results come back in a matter of minutes, but thankfully his was negative. Many people in the local community are struggling with both and this complicates the medication. If you contract HIV and you are on TB medication, you have to finish your course of treatment before you can start on ARVs (anti retrovirals for HIV).

After we had given out all the food, we still had some left, so we headed up into Iraq and handed some out to the few little children that were passing. I recognised their faces from sports and they came running after us to grab their portion, which they immediately tucked into. While we were there we thought we'd check in on the children at the creche in Iraq - the conditions they work with are quite incredible - a wooden shack, it has papered walls and a cardboard roof that doesn't look like it could withstand any sort of bad weather. An environment that is very hard to keep clean, especially when only one lady runs it full time - the whole place is quite dirty and doesn't smell good. There are chickens running around with the children, inside and outside and there are too many babies to hold, so there are always a couple sitting on their own on the floor.

The children are always excited to see you but there were a couple of very ill little ones today, who hadn't been eating. Even the milk the babies did have was very weak so lacks the essential nutrients they need. The woman who runs it is wonderful and has an immensely warm heart, but she works with very limited resources of food, clothes etc. Its more a place for parents to leave their children when they need to work, rather than a creche - there is no stimulation or activities apart from toys that are donated. The two babies who were ill hadn't seen any sort of doctor so Tim said he would let Thembacare know and they would send a nurse up to check on them - I don't know what have happened otherwise. It further emphasised the fact that the children in Iraq have a very difficult beginning to a very difficult life.

Invisible tragedies

Yesterday we got back to sports club to my great relief - after being here so long and becoming so involved in the everyday sports I feel a sense of uneasiness when we have a break from it. I feel too far seperated from the children and the community there, after being a weekly presence in their lives. I feel that constancy is important for them - that day when they can let themselves go in a game of sport and feel that we are there, taking an interest in them, giving them that personal contact and interaction. When we're back at the village were close enough to the townships to hear the noises of people out and about but you can feel a million miles apart when safely enclosed within the gates and wire fencing.

As we all gathered together at the end of the session we prayed for a young boy in the group who's shack had burnt down a week ago. We said our thankyous that another shack had been rebuilt so quickly and prayed for his family. We only found out later, when we talked to him, how ferocious the fire was, and that it happened when his brother was at home, killing him. If we hadn't had thought to ask, we never would have known - he wouldn't have said anything.

We ended up driving into town and buying him some school clothes, as without books, pens and uniform, he hadn’t been able to attend school; a small token for a family who has nothing left. The mother took us up to show us the fire site and there really was nothing left - just the blackened framework of the house, burnt books and belongings strewn over the ground. Their new shack was one small room with two broken wire bed frames (salvaged from the fire), one mattress, a chest of drawers, and nothing else - the young boy only managed to save his shoes from the fire, which his mother was now wearing as we talked to her. She didn't understand much English but a relative translated and the hug she gave us told more of her appreciation than she could probably could have explained – although it felt silly in a way – presenting a bag of school uniform to her, as we stood in a bare room, without fire, cooking pots, food, bedding or anything essential, with her 5 other small children crowded around the doorway, peering in.

Fires like this are too numerous to name and it is this ‘normality’ that is the hardest thing to come to terms with- just like the ‘normality’ of living with HIV or the ‘normality’ of struggling every day without the money to feed your family. It's as if people here have become hardened to tragedy and suffering, purely because they have to be and because, in this strange divided reality, they believe it is somehow their ‘lot’ – an unquestioning stoicism out of necessity. I think it was this realisation, brought home by being so close to an individual trauma, that made me feel whatever we do as a project – there will always be that disadvantaged group who will go unnoticed because their lives are sidelined and hidden from the rest of the world. I still feel heartbroken by what I saw and confused about how to process it - we stood side by side with a woman, on the charred remains of her and her family’s life and then we drove away, to safety and comfort, leaving it all behind – how do I reconcile that in my mind?

All I can think of, to try and counter a deep sense of injustice and helplessness that is growing in my mind, is that by being here, at least there are people in a position to reach out and touch those lives that otherwise go unnoticed. At least we were there to ask about what happened,  at least we were there to go and see his mother and tell her how sorry we are, and at least we could make that gift of a uniform, however small, to allow him to carry on going to school. At least that’s something.

Easter week and the big day!

Its been lovely this week to spend some extra time with them while they've been off school and experience some things with them for the first time - like the aquarium! On Tuesday we took them to the 'Two Oceans' aquarium in Cape Town. It was lovely to see how they reacted to their first sight of real fish - their hands and faces pressed up against the glass in amazement.

They slightly disrupted the penguin talk as one of our little girls I was holding was loudly demanding they come closer to her - a bit embarrassing but very sweet! The funniest part was watching their reactions to a puppet show - which were a mixture of terror, confusion and delight. We treated them all to an ice cream at the end and by the time we got on the coach everyone was exhausted - I sat with one our two year olds on the way home and we both fell asleep for the whole journey, the difference being that once we were home they all felt lively enough to run around in the garden, whereas we all collapsed on the sofas for the rest of the day!

The weather meant a slight change to our plans today! Instead of all sitting around outside, having a braai for lunch and an Easter egg hunt in the garden for the children, we did a speed easter Egg hunt - completing it in around 3 minutes, before we ran back inside to escape the torrents of rain (that have continued throughout the day). We watched the men huddled around the bbq outside while we all sat inside to eat, but in fact it was a lovely atmosphere - we ate in the children's unit with all the kids and the house mums, so it was lively and a wonderful opportunity to spend social time with the house mum's, treating them to a meal they didn't have to cook!

For some the excitement was just too much

After being plied with chocolate from all directions the children were suitably wired and bouncing off the walls. After eating lunch, their sugar high dipped and they all went off for a well needed nap. After a week of Easter activities, we got to complete their Easter baskets and they filled them with all their chocolate which will hopefully last them at least a week!

Finishing touches to the baskets

The cold weather has actually made for a very cosy evening - with no heating inside, I'm writing this in front of a roaring fire and there's the prospect of a film later with duvet and Easter chocolate alongside!

Racial reminders

I was looking forward to Wednesday morning as the Dutch sports students needed some help with a questionnaire they were doing, but it ended up not going so well and being a sharp reminder of the underlying racial tensions there still are here in South Africa...

The Dutch students wanted to assess what effect our sports programme is having on the local children in the area - not just as far as sports skills extend, but also in confidence building, health awareness and life skills. They will eventually ask questions of the children we work with, but before this, they needed to do the same with a control group. We headed to Pineview, a local area that we don't hold sports club, and set up to do a normal sports session and then the questionnaire...

...However, it transpired that we were working with children that usually take part in another day club in the holidays, run by a local woman. She was less than pleased and after some quite aggressive shouting in Afrikaans, she ended up taking the children with her. If it was the case that we'd taken children away from her programme then we would have been suitably apologetic but it was pretty clear that the fact we were white had first and foremost created the tension. She certainly didn't want to talk to us and we went away feeling quite shocked by the whole thing. It was a harsh reminder that although we are a white run charity and we hold very good relations with the local community, there are still veins of racial resentment running through black and coloured communities here in South Africa. Unsurprising, given the national history of racial inequality in South Africa, there is still a deep seated mistrust of white people amongst some people here.

I continued to think about what happened throughout the week, wrestling between an apathetic understanding of such animosity, but also a frustration at being treated as such, when I feel so far removed from racism in sentiment and opinion. All these thoughts became even more pertinent on our visit to Robben Island on Saturday...

Prison blocks, originally built by prisoners as part of hard labour

Robben Island, just off the coast of South Africa from Cape Town, was used as a prison from the time of Dutch settlement in the 1600s. It housed millions, from criminal prisoners, to lepers and the mentally ill (1800s), exiled from mainland society. But during the apartheid it became the epitome of racial oppression as political prisoners from such break away parties as the ANC the PAC were imprisoned in harsh conditions. 

This of course included South Africa's first democratic president, Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela from 1964, for eighteen years. Political leaders such as Mandela were housed in solitary confinement to avoid them impressing on others.  All prisoners were forced into hard labour in a limestone quarry and made to sleep on the floor until 1975 when beds were introduced. Ironically the limestone quarry became known as a 'University' as it was the only time that all the prisoners could come together and while there they would share information and formulate ideas. Many of the laws and statutes that made up the later democratic government of Mandela, were drafted on Robben Island. Our guide, who was on the island from 1984, told us of how the prisoners stole newspapers where they could so, once back in their communal cells, they could read, discuss and analyse any political news.

Nelson Mandela's cell in solitary confinement

I found it incredible that those men, acting as guides, could bring themselves to work in such a stark place that used to imprison them, but I suppose their ability to tell so many the truth of their indictment and how they continued to fight for democracy from within goes some way in healing the wounds of their past.

To see the men who were once imprisoned on Robben Island take ownership of the story of that time, and tell it with defiance, was entirely uplifting. However, it also reinforced the sense I have had of the complicated path there must have seemed, and must still seem, towards the 'Rainbow Nation' so desired here in South Africa. Although the progress from the days of apartheid is undeniable, working in Grabouw every day with the riots and the experiences of this week has gone some way in revealing the obstacles that still lie in the way of complete racial equality- both physically, in economic situation, but also mentally, in the perspectives South Africans hold of one another and those from abroad, regarding skin colour. This uncertain future could seem daunting; but holding those men from Robben Island in mind - who were so oppressed and yet continued to fight until their vision won through in 1994, with the end of apartheid - you can't help but feel a sense of determination that further progress will come. 

The first political prisoners were released from Robben island in 1991

“There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death.” 

Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom

Easter antics

So the Easter holidays began on Monday...the children are off school and its been a little too quiet for my liking. There's no school run to do and no sports in the afternoon! Its made me realise just how much I have loved teaching sports every afternoon - the interaction with the children in the townships and the sense of uplift I get from that time, seeing them so engaged and enthusiastic has really been the best part of my day. 

To keep the children occupied Jess and I sat down to plan some Easter activities. Unintentionally, most of them involved chocolate in some shape or form, so we decided to spread them across the two week break, to save the mums from an Easter weekend of sugar induced mayhem. We started off on Wednesday with a  session of making bunny ears! Here follows a series of adorable photos...

That seemed to go down very well, although the very little ones got carried away with the glitter glue and had them on for all of 2 minutes before deciding them were uncomfortable.

On Thursday we set off with all the children on an outing to a kids' play area, complete with bouncy castle, ball pit and a big jungle gym. This tired them out perfectly for the rest of the day and allowed me successfully to read to them in the afternoon, without the usual shouting, book grabbing and short attention span.

One of our little 2 year olds who spent the whole time burying herself in the ball pit

This weekend, on Saturday, we went on an exploration of the local countryside - down 'appletiser road' into real apple country - sooooooo many orchards, interspersed with vineyards and beautiful views that looked very like rolling Italian countryside. 

Apple Creek

On Sunday we decided some proper exercise was in order so we headed up one of the small peaks just along the track, along with a picnic and, unexpectedly, the dog (an old resident of the Village of Hope)- Raffabiki - very old, very blind, very deaf, but apparently keen on hiking, particularly when tempted with salami going spare from our lunch!

Not a bad lunch spot!

Bikki waiting patiently for us while we had lunch up on a rock

World Water Day

So today is World Water Day, and we woke up to no water! I felt the irony of this was worth a post...

... The Village of Hope has had a new filter system fitted to make the water drinkable and hopefully less brown! However, this seems to have caused a few issues and we keep losing the water altogether. The 22nd March has been World Water Day since 1993, when the UN General Assembly declared it as a world wide 'day for water' - the idea being that you are careful with how much you use and truly recognise its value.

This couldn't be more relevant living here in Grabouw. All the townships around have one or two standpipes to serve thousands of people and the women and children living there often have to carry their water a long distance back to their homes. The opportune failure of the water here is a perfect way for us to really take stock of how lucky we are to be able to expect a constant supply, to cook with and shower under, from numerous sources. It's when you lose something that you really recognise its importance...so I think it highly appropriate that we all go about our day unshowered and deeply appreciative of what we have.